


do they even know

by yourlocalheartbreaker



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst With A Bittersweet Ending, Bisexual Aaron Hotchner, Gen, Homophobia, Hurt Aaron Hotchner, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Protective David Rossi, Protective Derek Morgan, Sad Aaron Hotchner, Stalking, Suicide, Valentine's Day, case-fic, religious trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29447805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourlocalheartbreaker/pseuds/yourlocalheartbreaker
Summary: the week leading up to valentine's day was supposed to be fun and easy. it was not supposed to begin with derek morgan receiving a letter, hidden away in his drawer, exposing aaron hotchner as someone weak and vulnerable enough to cry in the shower. there were not supposed to be photos.and the letters weren't supposed to come to other members of the team(alternatively known as: hotch is being stalked. there is one obvious suspect but he can't accept that it would be them.)
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner & David Rossi, Aaron Hotchner & Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner & Emily Prentiss, Aaron Hotchner & Jennifer "JJ" Jareau, Aaron Hotchner & Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner/Haley Hotchner (past), Aaron Hotchner/Original Male Character(s), Penelope Garcia & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Aaron Hotchner
Comments: 8
Kudos: 56





	do they even know

**Author's Note:**

> look, it's still valentine's day somewhere. erm... i don't have much to say about this apart from heed the tags and also, i'm really living up to my username with this one. it's past midnight now, i'm tired and haven't proofread it. i'll update the tags in the morning
> 
> tw: child abuse, stalking, suicide, religious trauma, homophobia, internalized homophobia, slight/implied references to drug addiction, non-consensual photography (hotch is shirtless in the images)

The first note came to Derek Morgan.

It was Monday morning. Everyone- excluding Penelope and Dave- were hanging around the bullpen, discussing their weekend and wondering what treats Hotch was going to bring for them. Richard had texted the group chat that he wasn't in saying he'd be late that morning because they were going out for breakfast.

Nobody minded. It was about time Hotch let someone love him again. And the team was happy for him. Really, they were. But there was something about the new man in Aaron's life that just felt off. Nobody had said a word to him. They couldn't.

Not when Richard made Aaron laugh and smile the way only Haley and Jack ever had. Or when Aaron never shied away from his touch the way he had with others. So they kept their opinions to themselves and hoped that it was just them being overprotective and pessimistic. That they were just looking out for their leader because he deserved nothing but happiness.

Derek was keeping one eye on the elevator doors, just in case Hotch appeared the next time they opened. He wouldn't tell them off for wasting time and avoiding paperwork- he'd probably be too busy smiling and blushing as a result of whatever had been sent to his phone- but they weren't bad people. They would start their paperwork when he came in to prevent him from becoming more stressed than he already was.

He opened his desk drawer, intending to pull out the soft ball he kept in there for days like these, where there were no cases and a chance to relax and have fun. The look on Reid's face when it hit him in the back of the head would be worth the lecture from Rossi.

Instead, his fingers brushed paper. He frowned and looked down, because this was his desk and nobody on the team ever went through it. He knew how things were organised and he knew that his hand should not be touching paper, it should be touching a soft ball that wouldn't cause any harm if it hit someone.

Heartbeat picking up slightly, he picked it up. There was an envelope. With no name, return address or stamp. Nothing. Just a plain white envelope that, as he held it up to the light, contained a handwritten note. He prayed it was just one of the rookies playing a silly Valentine's joke, but the BAU had never been that lucky.

"What's that?" Emily asked, nodding towards the envelope.

"I'm not sure yet," he said, tearing it open before Reid could launch into a lecture about the various weapons that could have been contained in it.

There was a note. He pulled it out, now fairly certain it was just a joke being played by another agent. He could deal with that. Whoever played it would get bonus points if they left a note for Hotch because that would be funny for him to watch.

He cleared his throat. The writing looked stunning. Perfectly joined together and completely legible. It would make for a good dramatic reading. Before he started, he scanned the words and the paper fell from his hands as quickly as the smile faded from his face.

It was not a love letter.

"Morgan?" JJ prompted.

He picked it up. "It's not good. I think someone may be in danger."

"Danger? Where? Why?" Rossi asked, having chosen that moment to step into the bullpen and pass by their desks. Morgan looked over to the elevators, wondering how things could change so quickly. Moments ago he'd been willing Hotch to not enter because he didn't want to have to start his paperwork. Now he was willing him to not enter because he didn't want to ruin his day with the news of a case.

"Do they even know about how you will run the water as cold as possible to numb yourself in the shower with tears streaming down your face, still dressed in the suits you use as armour just to feel human?" he read out.

"What?" Spencer sounded hurt. Like he couldn't quite believe it.

"I don't- I can't remember the last time I had a cold shower. Or the last time I cried in one. If I need to cry, it's not, I don't do it in the shower," he said. All he wanted to know was who the note was really about, and why it had ended up with him.

"Was there anything else in there?" Emily asked, voice as calm as ever. She was biting her nails though. And she had shifted her body away from the envelope, as though she wanted nothing to do with it.

Derek sighed, then picked up the envelope again. He peered in and saw a photo. The final words written haunted his memory. Because he knew that bathroom. He had stood there and profiled it and he had helped clean the blood when Hotch reopened his stitches accidentally.

"Derek?" Rossi prompted, voice bringing him back to the moment.

He pulled the photograph out and laid it on his desk, closing his eyes for a moment. He searched for that feeling of neutrality and detachment he found every time he felt himself getting too emotional on a case and clung to it. When his heart calmed, he opened his eyes and focused on it.

It was Aaron. Not Hotch. Because Hotch was strong and invulnerable and he did not blink. He was not the man in the photo. The man in the photo was fully dressed, his tie still knotted perfectly and his shirt buttoned to the top. There was a hand pressed to his mouth, probably to stifle the noises escaping and he was soaked to the bone.

"Oh my god," Emily breathed. "Who did this?"

Derek shook his head. He could not tell them what his first thought had been. He could not tell them who the prime suspect in his head was because they would never forgive him. He was struggling to forgive himself for even thinking it. Just because it was the most common event, it did not mean that it was happening this time.

"I hope you're doing your paperwork," Hotch said teasingly, walking through the bullpen with his phone in his hand.

Everyone turned to face him, faces frozen with identical looks of horror and sorrow.

He looked up. "What is it?"

"Hotch," JJ whispered.

"What is it?" he repeated.

"Aaron, we love you. So much," Emily said, voice cracking slightly.

He walked over to their desks. When he looked at Spencer, his eyes were pleading. Spencer sighed and passed the note over, keeping the photo underneath it. Derek had flung it at him to see if he could get any additional information that the rest of them couldn't.

Hotch read it over twice, eyes widening with every word. His hands were trembling as he placed it face-down so nobody could see it, and when he saw the photo, his face hardened. He slammed it down on the table and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Where did that come from?" he asked. The lack of emotion in his voice made Morgan scared. The last time he had been that toneless, George Foyet had stabbed him nine times and torn the former love of his life from him.

Spencer's eyes flicked to his.

"It was in my drawer when I got here," he confessed.

Hotch met his eyes, and for a moment, Derek stupidly feared that he was about to be punched. But then Hotch did something worse. He turned on his heel, having swiped the note and the photo from the desk and shut himself in his office like nothing had happened. Derek remained frozen. His friend had not thrown the things in the bin, so there was still some hope to be had.

Rossi started to walk towards the office.

"Wait," Derek commanded. Everyone stared at him and his mouth opened and closed of its own accord. He wasn't Aaron's best friend. Dave was the one that made those decisions. Not him. He stood to the side and he watched, ready to stop Hotch from going too far, but he did not comfort him. 

"You know what he's like. If you go in there now, he will be confrontational. He'll probably rip up the note and shred the photo and then we won't have anything. Let him come down and get a coffee. Then one of us can go."

Dave did not verbally acknowledge him and Derek thought that he was just going to be ignored. But he wasn't. Dave headed straight past Aaron's office and entered his own, closing the door with the same amount of force he always used. Through the blinds, Derek saw Aaron look up slightly. Like he couldn't quite believe nobody had said anything.

JJ and Emily went out for lunch. Spencer went down to Penelope's lair. Dave went to the bathroom and Derek took a chance. He wasn't going to let the man he had always viewed as a friend shy away from this. Nor was he going to let him shut down and pull away.

He didn't knock. He never did. Hotch didn't even look up. 

"You need to tell us when you're going home," he said.

Hotch looked up. There was a fury in his eyes that would've had any other member of the BAU backing down. But what Hotch forgot was that Morgan was not any other member. It was him, not Dave and certainly not Emily, that had pulled him off George Foyet's dead body and seen both the fear and the anger. He wasn't scared.

"Why would I need to do that?" Hotch asked, completely nonchalant.

"Because somebody out there has a photo of you crying in the shower. That's not normal. That means they were in your house and you didn't realise. And they've been watching you for long enough to understand that what's happening there- it's a common occurrence. You're not safe."

"Was I ever safe?" Hotch said, smiling without any humour.

Morgan resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Look man. We don't need to talk about that if you don't want to. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever. But we do need to talk about you staying safe. Because if you go home without someone, who knows what's going to happen. And what if something happens to Jack? Or Richard?"

Mentioning his son and partner was a risky move, but it needed to be done. Because he needed Hotch to understand how reckless he was being. Morgan was not Rossi. He would not push Aaron to discuss his emotions or his feelings, but he would push him to see sense.

"Do not make this about them," Hotch snapped.

"I'm not. I'm being responsible. You cannot be going home alone because it is far too risky, and that photo on your desk means it's someone that has been watching you for a while. How many cases involving stalkers have we worked? It is always, always the moment where they think they're safe that something goes wrong," Morgan pleaded.

"I'm not a victim."

"No. You're not. You never have been. But that is not just the standard threat. That is intimate and that is serious and that is dangerous. Let someone take you home. Let me get officers deployed to your apartment. If not for your sake, then do it so Jack-"

"Finish that sentence and I will write you up for insubordination," Hotch said.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"Fine. Have it your way. But do not try and blame anybody else if something happens to you. Or Richard. Or Jack. Because I tried. You were the one that wasn't willing to cooperate. Remember that."

Morgan slammed the door with unnecessary force, then rested his head against it for a few moments, wondering what Hotch's problem was. He wasn't being himself. When it became clear that Foyet must have been watching him for months, he just took it. He let everyone do whatever they needed because at the end of the day, it wasn't for him. He already had the scars. It was for everyone else, so they could feel less guilty.

But this was to protect him. To save him. And that was the problem. Hotch did not want the team to see him become Aaron. He did not want to show vulnerability because he had already been exposed. Morgan had not allowed himself to think about the actual content of the envelope because it would distract him too much.

He could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Aaron cry, and with the exception of Dave, he'd been working with him for the longest. For a complete stranger to have that photo, it was no wonder he was being so defensive.

Morgan felt terrible. He really did. But he also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make Hotch feel better. So as much as it pained him to do so, he let go of the door handle and went and sat back down. Worked through his paperwork like everything was fine.

And when Aaron left at five exactly, his unfinished paperwork neatly organised for the next morning because Richard was making dinner for the three of them and he was learning balance, Derek bit his tongue and didn't say anything.

Aaron Hotchner went home, kissed his son on the forehead and his partner on the mouth. He smiled at them, told them the abridged version of his day- obviously removing the part about the photos- and picked at his dinner. Richard noticed and got Jack ready for bed himself. Jack seemed to realise something was up and was unusually compliant.

Richard told Aaron to take a shower when he entered the dining room and saw Aaron still hadn't finished his dinner, even though he had given Jack a bath and put him to bed. Aaron just nodded, taking a moment to appreciate how the light created a halo over his blonde hair.

When he exited in his pajamas, Richard was lying on the bed, reading from Aaron's copy of Pride and Prejudice.

"So is everything okay?" he asked as Aaron climbed in, dog-earing the page.

"Mhm," Aaron said. His gaze was fixed on his blazer, where it felt like the note and photo he'd taken from Morgan were burning a hole in the pocket.

"Aar. Look at me," Richard coaxed.

Brown eyes met blue and Aaron felt tears forming in his eyes. Morgan had been right. He had been stupid to reject the help. Richard loved him, even with all of his rough edges and broken pieces. 

Richard patted his chest, encouraging Aaron to rest his head there and listen to the steady thump of his heart. When Aaron started to relax, he picked up the book again, and started to read, even though his accents were terrible.

They fell asleep like that. Richard's last thought was of how much he loved Aaron. Aaron's last thought was that there were several people with handwriting like his. He hadn't been home that afternoon when the photo had been taken. It was a coincidence.

It was all a coincidence.

The second note came to Jennifer Jareau.

It was Tuesday afternoon. She had gone to the local coffee shop to get herself some lunch and a coffee because Hotch was in a meeting and hadn't made a fresh pot, and in her rush to get Henry to school on time, she'd left her own lunch at home.

The man in front of her- she hadn't caught his appearance- had taken an awfully long time doing something, so she had rushed back to Quantico, coffee in one hand, bag containing her bagel in the other. They were all going to try and work out where the note and photo had come from by making a list of people that may have known.

So far, there was only one name. Richard. Nobody had wanted to admit it, but they had all suspected Richard first. How many times had it been the partner that nobody had trusted but had refused to say anything about?

She raced to the bullpen, not caring when part of her coffee splashed onto her shirt. It wasn't one she particularly cared about and she kept a cardigan in her office for that precise reason. Besides, there was only so long Strauss could keep Hotch. He didn't believe they had a case. He didn't know they were going behind his back like this.

It felt wrong. It felt like the days of George Foyet, when they had created a second group chat- one without him- to discuss whether or not he had lied on psychological evaluation, when he had last eaten, if he was going to make it. What they were meant to do if he didn't. She didn't ever want to experience anything like that again.

Which was why they needed to find the unsub and stop them.

"Hey," she greeted as she sat down. A quick look up told her that Hotch was still in his meeting. A quick look down told her that they hadn't come up with any other suspects. She was contemplating saying Jessica- just so they could feel like they had accomplished something but she also knew that was stupid. 

And so the list remained a death sentence for whoever got caught with it.

"Everything okay? You seemed to take longer than usual," Emily said.

She swivelled around to see the clock and realised that she had. "Oh yeah, it was fine. Just the person in front was doing something that was all. I think it was to do with gift cards, I saw him take one off the thing."

Spencer smiled at that. "You know, gift cards are actually good presents. It saves both of you the trouble of having to make a proper choice."

She raised her eyebrows, then opened the bag with her food in it. There was an envelope inside. Slightly confused, she pulled it out of the bag. And then it hit her. It was the same one the gift cards came in. She smiled, holding it up for everyone else to see.

"No way," Penelope gasped. "The man in front of you just got you a gift card? Without even knowing who you were?"

JJ shrugged. "I guess so. That's quite sweet of them. I just assumed it was going to be a Valentine's gift. Which reminds me, I do actually need to get a move on and find something for Will. We've only got until Sunday."

Morgan laughed slightly. "Open it then. Maybe he's actually an admirer."

JJ whacked him lightly, but tore the envelope open. "It came with a note! Maybe they're doing this for random people. I hope they are, because that'll be so good. And if there's contact information, I could say thank you."

She pulled out the note, and put the envelope down, completely missing the second thing that had always been folded to fit in.

"Do they even know-" she began, then froze. Derek's mouth formed a thin line. Spencer's jaw dropped slightly. Penelope and Dave, who had not been there when the first note was opened looked at each other. Emily closed her eyes.

JJ cleared her throat. She needed to do this. "Do they even know about how most nights, you wake up screaming and crying and kicking about and that one day, the school phoned because Jack fell asleep in his lesson and they needed to know whether or not he was okay?"

She couldn't do this. She wasn't meant to look at her friend and see him that broken. But this note had been delivered to her. It was meant to hurt her the most. Because she was the mother of the team. What their unsub did not realise was that a child did not need to be biologically related to you for you to love them enough to die for them. 

Still, she would not ask them to look at the photo for her. She would not let their unsub beat. Not this time.

She took it out, hating that she had to unfold it to see what it was. It just made it so much worse.

Aaron. Sat up in bed, hair a mess and falling onto his forehead in messy bangs that could only be tamed come morning and with an obscene amount of hair gel. If she focused on that and only that, she could pretend it was a candid photo taken by Richard because he loved Aaron just as much as they did.

But it was impossible to only focus on that. His face was deathly pale, mouth parted in shock. When she looked closer, she could see the drying tear tracks on his face. Whatever he'd been dreaming out had been bad. He was wearing Richard's college shirt, but it was damp and sticking to his body.

Richard was noticeably absent.

"JJ?" Emily coaxed.

She laid it down the same way Morgan had. "Look at the angle. And look at what's missing," she said. 

"What?" Rossi asked. He didn't understand what she was on about.

"It's been taken from the doorway. Meaning whoever took it would've been in the apartment. We've already ruled out Jessica. It can't have been Jack. Which means, it must have been Richard," she said.

Derek groaned. "We can't even do anything. All he's done is send us some photos and a couple of Hotch's secrets."

"I don't get why though," Penelope said suddenly.

Everyone turned to face her and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Sweet thing?" Derek encouraged.

"We all know Hotch struggles with emotions. The fact that he's crying is technically a good thing. It's a healthy coping mechanism. It's not healthy the way he does it or how much he bottles the rest of them up, but I don't care about that. And we all know he's a good father who is doing his best. One phone call… we aren't going to judge him."

"But it's not about us. It's about him. This is an invasion of his privacy. This makes him human and weak and vulnerable. And he hates it. Whoever it is, they know him. They know him very well. And I hate to be that person, but more and more signs are pointing to Richard," Emily said.

They lapsed into silence after that. JJ knew she was going to have to tell him, but she had no idea how to word it. Derek had texted him in the evening, explaining what had happened when the suggestion of an escort had been made.

"Wait. You got this stuff from the coffee shop, right?" Penelope asked.

JJ nodded, still staring at the note. She really did not want to tell Hotch. He already thought he was failing Jack by taking his mother from him and by not being there for every milestone. If he found out that they knew about this, it would break him. She had no idea how he would have explained that. Probably by lying. Claiming that there had just been difficulties sleeping that particular night, but it wouldn't happen again. 

He probably didn't listen when they told him it was okay and he was doing fine. Hell, he probably got in the shower and cried because of how bad he thought he was. Knowing that they knew would break him. And she wasn't sure she was strong enough to piece him back together.

"I'm going to check every security camera within the radius to see whether or not I can find something on this bastard. Even if it's the colour of his hoodie," Penelope said with conviction, before shuffling off to her lair.

"It'd be more than we've got now. Reid, Prentiss, go down there and see if any of the baristas or other customers can remember any other details," Rossi said.

The two of them nodded, then vanished.

"I have a meeting with Strauss as soon as her and Aaron are done. Are the two of you going to be okay on your own?"

JJ nodded. Morgan verbalised his faith in the two of them, and Rossi gave them both a slight smile before heading up to his own office. JJ started fiddling with her ring. It was better than biting her nails. Until they got an update from the rest of the team, there was nothing they could do but wait.

Her bagel remained uneaten and she pushed it away. In a morbid way, the photo of Hotch mesmerised her. If she looked at it like a piece of artwork, she would find beauty in the way somebody could look so young and vulnerable, but have such large demons hiding behind the softness of their eyes. But it was not a piece of art. It was her friend.

"You'll be okay," Derek said.

"No inter-team profiling," she joked, but it fell flat. All they had done that day was profile Hotch.

Derek managed to smile at her. "Not profiling you. Just reminding you. He's defensive at the moment, but it'll be okay. Just be honest."

She nodded. 

Reid and Prentiss couldn't get any information from the barista. She said the man had been completely average, but because of the lunchtime rush, the only thing she remembered about him was a grey hoodie. The cameras inside the shop did not work.

Garcia hadn't been able to find anything or anyone that could have potentially been their unsub, but she was determined to find something, so she widened her search. She also started digging into Hotch's past, but she wasn't about to tell anyone that. They'd try and stop her, but it was all going to be very low-level stuff. 

Hotch was not a victim.

He finished his meeting and returned to his office moments after Prentiss and Reid returned to the bullpen. JJ gave him all of thirty seconds before she scooped the items on her desk up and knocked twice before entering.

She knew she didn't need to, but it had always felt wrong, just barging in.

"Hi JJ," he said, the soft smile he reserved for her creeping onto his face. It broke her heart, but she couldn't entertain the small talk or simple conversation.

"This was in the bag I got from the cafe today. Came nicely folded in a gift card envelope. Prentiss and Reid have already spoken to the baristas, Garcia's widening her search as we speak," she said.

Hotch frowned, but took the items. When he read the note, he cringed, the memory still uncomfortable, even a year later. The photo made him swallow, and if he hadn't already been sitting down, his knees would've buckled. He'd never seen himself look so weak or pathetic. Bile rose in the back of his throat as he realised that everyone on the team would've found out about his failures as a parent. As a father. And as a person.

“This doesn’t change anything. Do you hear me? It doesn’t change my opinion of you, or how much I trust you. You’re doing your best. That’s good enough for all of us. You’re a good parent,” she blurted out, needing him to know.

"JJ," he started, when he realised there was a third page under the photo. With a slight frown, he switched to it. The side he saw was blank. 

Which meant JJ could see Richard's name, clearly written in her own handwriting. She clenched her fists, trying to come up with a reason to yank it from him. Below, she heard a mug drop and saw that Emily had dropped her coffee as she watched them. When Hotch followed her gaze, Emily was on her knees, sweeping it up. It would have been the perfect moment to grab it, but she hesitated for too long and he turned it over.

He turned it over and he saw his boyfriend's name written in Jennifer's handwriting. It could only mean one thing.

"I can't believe you," he whispered.

"Hotch," she began. But was what she meant to say? She wouldn't lie to him. Not about this.

"Tell me this isn't what I think it is," he pleaded.

She looked down.

"Tell me your list of suspects, that you have made behind my back because I told you to not look into this because it's nothing, is not my partner and only my partner. Tell me this is something like your list of people that you're meant to protect."

"Hotch, I can't do that without lying. You know that," she said, meeting his eyes. He deserved that much.

He scoffed. "I'm- I'm taking an early day. Unless we get a case- a real case, with real victims- or Strauss needs something urgently, please don't try and text me. I can't look at you, any of you, right now."

"Aaron," she tried. Because he needed to understand. Writing Richard's name hadn't been easy. But it had to be done. He was the only option. Nothing else made sense.

"I remember that day. Richard was on a business trip. When I phoned him, god only knows how early, because I needed to hear him, I didn't even hesitate. He was on the next flight out. Do you want to know why? Because he loves me. And he is good. Far too good to ever been associated with anyone else," Hotch said, words blurring together as he got more and more defensive.

JJ stepped back. "But Hotch-"

"Jennifer, not now. I need to go before I say something I can't take back and we both get hurt," he said.

He never called her Jennifer. Not even when, in her own moment of anger, she had blamed him for every tragedy that had ever befallen the team. And that was what made her stand to the side as he took his briefcase and fled.

Aaron picked Jack up from school. He needed to know something. They were a few blocks from the apartment when finally had the courage to ask. It was stupid of him, to be so hesitant. What kind of answer was he expecting? But if his childhood had taught him one thing, it was that the scariest monsters were the ones that looked like family.

"Jack?" he asked.

"Yeah," came the reply from the back-seat. Aaron looked in the mirror to see his facial expressions properly.

"How does Richard make you feel?" he asked. His intention had been to ask it in a much simpler way. Jack was still just a kid. Just because he knew how to say no and what to do if someone made him uncomfortable- and Hotch still needed to hear from Jessica that he'd made the right decision doing that- didn't mean that he could explain his feelings with the same complexity as an adult.

"Daddy?"

"Sorry, sorry. You know how you feel around me and Aunt Jessie?"

"Yeah! Like everything is good and I can do anything I want!" 

Hotch smiled. "See, that feeling is safe. It means you're comfortable. And do you remember how you felt that day with Mommy? When the bad man was in the house?"

Jack's smile faded. "That wasn't good. I felt strange. And not nice."

"I know buddy, I know. That's why I'm asking you about Richard. Does he make you feel like that day with Mommy, when you're with me and Aunt Jessie or somewhere in between? You can think about it for a bit."

"I feel like I did with Mommy. But not when the bad man was there. All the other times. And with you. And Aunt Jess. Does this mean he's going to carry on staying with us? Because I like his mac and cheese," Jack said.

Having arrived at the apartment, Hotch put the car in park and wiped away a tear, making sure Jack didn't see. He didn't have the energy to teach him about different emotions.

"Yeah bud. It does. But I need you to promise me something okay?" he said as he undid the seatbelt and took Jack's school bag for him.

"Okay Daddy," Jack said.

"I need you to promise me that if Richard ever makes you feel weird, or not safe, that you tell me. I don't care what he says, you tell me. I won't be angry. I will be so proud of you for telling me. Okay?" he didn't know if that was the right thing to do, but he didn't know what else to do.

"Okay."

Hotch sighed, wondering when the world made him so distrustful of everyone. He told himself the team were just being paranoid. It didn't stop him from noticing how silent the key was, or from realising that if someone was stood at a specific angle, they could photograph the bedroom without being spotted.

He put Richard's college shirt into the wash, even though it had hardly been worn, and slipped into his own Harvard one. And then he let the man hold him, breathing in and out as evenly as he could when yet another nightmare tore him from his sleep.

The third note came to Penelope Garcia.

It was Wednesday.

From what she understood, Hotch hadn't spoken to a single team member beyond basic politeness when absolutely necessary. She hated it. She wanted him to forgive them all, and she wanted everything to stop, and she wanted him to just be happy and loved.

Even though she hadn't said anything at the time, she couldn't quite bring herself to believe that Richard was a valid suspect. Just because the photos and information suggested that he was guilty didn't mean anything. They'd seen people be framed all the time. And it didn't make logical sense: he'd been on a business trip on the date of the second photo.

The emotional part of her brain didn't want it to be Richard because she needed to believe that there were still good people. She did not want to lose her goodness or her grace or her faith in love and kindness because without it, she would become bitter and angry. She would not allow that to happen.

So she had put a pause on the digging. None of the security cameras had given her the footage she needed, and digging through Hotch's personal life, trying to work out if there had been any other relationships before Richard that they just hadn't known about, suddenly felt too invasive after JJ knocked and told her Hotch had left.

JJ had cried in her office. Garcia had comforted her, wondering whether finding out the source of the photos was worth the destruction. Hotch clearly didn't want them digging, and no amount of voicemails or texts assuring him that it didn't matter, that they didn't judge him and it was all okay, were helping him accept the situation.

She stopped calling after her fifth voicemail. She had left one in the morning, apologising yet again for what JJ had said and also to inform him that she would respect his wishes and stop digging. She promised him. And she would not break that promise unless it was a matter of life and death.

Which was how she found herself printing approval forms. The transcripts for the interrogations conducted over the past few cases had all been done, and most of the files that needed updating had been. It was a change of pace, spending the day doing admin and mind-numbing tasks, but she found herself enjoying it. At least she didn't have to keep looking at how horrible people were.

A sudden silence jerked her from her thoughts and caused her to put down the hat she was crocheting for Hotch. She knew the weather was going to start picking up soon, but it wouldn't hurt for him to have a spare one. Maybe it would stop the ear infections he always seemed to have.

She leant forward in her chair. The printer was jammed. She sighed and stood up, deciding that the next thing she would ask for would be a new printer that actually worked. Honestly, she had turned it off when she went to get her lunch and now it was broken. If her forms had been ruined, or creased, she was going to be very annoyed because she had formatted them perfectly and all her hard work would be ruined because she would have to do it again.

When she checked the paper, nothing seemed to be jammed. She frowned. The ink cartridge wasn't jammed either. For a moment, she considered just turning the printer off and on again and hoping for the best. But something stopped her from doing that and she opened the paper tray again. Something seemed wrong.

She lifted the top sheet.

An envelope laid underneath it, far back enough to cause a jam. She hadn't picked up on it the first time because it was the same shade as the paper so it completely blended in. Even though she knew what it must have been, she hesitated. Maybe it was best to leave it there and have someone else come and get it. Maybe she should give it directly to Hotch and let him make that judgment call.

No. The notes they had been left were all designed to attack the thing that would hurt the most. Morgan's note came after Hotch's emotions, something he had always wanted to help with but never been able to say. JJ's note spoke about Hotch's ability as a father, and she was someone that constantly worried she couldn't be a good mother if she carried on working with the team. She needed to look at the note first. And there was no way she would give it to Hotch before she did that. They would never know what it said or who was in danger if she did.

Morgan and JJ had been hesitant with the way they opened theirs. But she was used to opening things and being greeted with horror. She held her breath, sliced it open using a pair of scissors and immediately shook out the contents.

And suddenly, she just wanted Derek to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything was going to work out and they would win again. Because with Derek, she did not need to be strong. With Derek, she could break down and say that her faith in humanity was fading so she needed him to be right there with her.

He was an elevator ride away. But she didn't want everyone knowing. Not when she was so close to falling apart.

It only took one ring for him to pick up.

"Well hello my gorgeous goddess," he said.

"I need you to come down to my lair right now. Don't bring anyone. I got my note," she said.

His tone changed immediately. "I'll be right there. And Penny?"

She sniffled. "Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," she said, and hung up. The note seemed to be taunting her, but she resisted the urge to read it. She had to wait for Derek or she would do something she would regret.

Only moments later, he knocked on her door. She knew it was him. Each member of the team had a specific knock pattern, and Derek was the only one that only ever knocked once. She took a deep breath and let him in.

"Have you read it?" he asked, taking the seat next to hers.

She shook her head. "I was waiting for you. I just couldn't do it alone and I didn't want to know, but I need to, and all I wanted was for someone to be here, even though I know how time sensitive these things can be," she rambled.

"Garcia. You don't ever have to justify yourself to me. Okay?"

Garcia exhaled, then nodded. "Okay."

"Are you sure you're good to read it? I don't mind, if you don't want to."

"I'm sure." She picked both the note and the photo up because she didn't want to accidentally see the photo before the note. "Do they even know how weak your knees get when darling Richard presses a kiss to the side of your neck?"

It was morbid, but a slight spark of hope ignited in her heart. Maybe they would be able to prove that it wasn't Richard. She passed the note to Derek, who seemed disgusted that somebody would make that comment, and stared at the photo.

Richard and Hotch seemed to stare up at her, with matching smiles. There was a slight blush dusting Hotch's cheeks, and Richard's head was buried in Aaron's shoulder, likely pressing a kiss to his neck, weakening his knees and unknowingly giving their unsub more fuel. They were on a date, so blissfully unaware how downhill things could and would go.

"Baby girl?" Derek asked.

"Richard's in the photo. Look," she said.

Morgan frowned but took the photo. It made his heart clench. He missed seeing Hotch smile so freely. He missed the Hotch that had existed before Gideon left and placed the weight of the team on his shoulders. Richard had returned a little bit of that man to them, and now it seemed like he too was at risk. But something still felt off.

"This wasn't taken by either of them, was it?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Does this mean we can stop suspecting Richard? If he's in this photo, that means he can't have taken it. Not from the angle it's at. And if he didn't do this one, then he can't have done the others. It just wouldn't make sense."

Derek hesitated. "Penny, I wish I could give you a solid answer. But there's still a chance it's him. I know what this makes it seem impossible, but until we're sure, we need to proceed with caution. Okay?"

"Okay. Derek, I just want him to be happy."

Derek sighed. "I know princess. So do I. He needs to know about this one. Do you want me to take it up to him? Now that it's clear whoever is doing this knows about Richard he's probably going to be even more tense."

"It's okay. I'll do it. I might ask him to come down here though. Maybe it'll be easier to get through to him if he doesn't feel like everyone is profiling him through the blinds," she said, voice quieter and more hopeless than he'd ever heard.

"Maybe," he said. He wished he could say more.

"Derek?"

"Yeah sweetness?"

"Does Hotch really think we're going to stop trusting him and look at him differently or like he's a bad person just because one unsub is revealing information about him? Because I've been trying to work out why he seems so tense and angry. It's because of that, isn't it?"

"Partially. I guess the other part is the forced vulnerability. Hotch clings to control in his job because outside of it, everything is unpredictable. For the information that's come to just be used against him like this is terrifying. And those first two photos came from his apartment. Where Jack is. He already had that home taken from him once, I'm not sure he can do it again."

Penelope looked down at the photo again. "I am."

"And that is why I love you," Derek said, kissing her forehead before taking his leave. When he returned to the bullpen, he told Emily and Spencer about the note. They were planning ways to subtly inform JJ and Rossi without Hotch realising what they were doing when Hotch walked down the stairs and into the elevator. He didn't look at any of them.

All of their phones pinged. Garcia had texted the group chat saying she was about to tell him about the note, and that she'd update when he left, so long as they did the same throughout the day. Everyone immediately agreed. Derek didn't want to think about how, if he scrolled up the smallest amount, messages from the weeks and months following Haley's death would be the only thing there.

Garcia hadn't told Hotch there was a note. It wasn't the kind of thing she could word in a text. She just messaged him saying that there was something she needed him for. The last message he'd sent her had technically been from Richard, saying thank you because she had driven Hotch home when he hurt his wrist. 

Hotch's knocking pattern was two successive knocks, a short pause and then a single knock. When Garcia heard it, she sighed, then called out for him to come in. Hotch entered, looking mildly terrified and extremely out of place amongst all the colour and brightness.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Penelope shook her head, directing him to sit down. He did, and she handed him the envelope. He looked at her, the pain he had tried to hide from JJ and Morgan written all over his face.

"I'm so sorry. I have no idea who it was. All I know is that I left to eat my lunch with the others and when I came back, I was trying to print some forms, because I listened to what you said about this and I wanted to respect that. And then the paper jammed, and that's when I found it."

Hotch put the envelope to one side, and he took Garcia's hands, absent-mindedly playing with the bracelets and rings. Her hands were calloused, but not in the way his were. Her hands were calloused from the keyboard she used like magic, his because of the gun that still sometimes trembled.

"I want your honest opinion Penelope. Can you promise me that no matter how much you may not want to, you'll be honest with me?" he asked.

It was such a strange question for the moment that she had to take a moment to process exactly what it was that was being asked of her. When it finally made sense, she nodded. Hotch rarely asked things of her outside of the standard information they needed on cases. To ask for anything would've been difficult. The least she could do was give it to him.

"Of course I will," she said.

"Do you really think Richard is a suspect?"

"No. I didn't think that yesterday and I can't think that now," she said.

"You can't?"

"Oh sir. I think you need to see the note."

Hotch looked slightly suspicious as he opened it. The colour rose to his cheeks as he read what had been said and then his face completely drained of it all when he saw the photo.

"Sir?"

"This is now an active case. JJ's note is on my desk, Morgan's is in my drawer. You can dig into whatever you need to, whether it's my file, Richard's social media and bank statements, all of it. He can't know, not yet, but I need you to start digging. I'll tell the rest of the team as well," he said.

"Hotch," Garcia started. She would be the first to admit that she ruled with her heart not her head, but Hotch didn't. For him to go from a complete lack of interest in the notes to making it into a case over the space of a day was jarring. 

"This person knows about Richard. They know. And the last time an unsub knew about my family…" he trailed off. He didn't need to tell her. She had heard the phone call. In fact, she had been sitting where he was when the shots rang out.

"I know. But that's not going to happen. Not this time. So let's go bring this bastard down," she said, picking up her laptop and moving towards the door. When she opened it, she turned back around, to see that he hadn't even moved from his chair. "Sir?"

"How are you that confident it isn't Richard? You said that even yesterday, you weren't convinced. Why not?"

"Because sir, I choose to believe that anyone that makes you as happy as he does is too good to ever be like the people we hunt down."

Hotch smiled, despite everything, and followed her back up.

By the time they all needed to go home for one reason or another, they were no closer to finding out anything. Hotch was tired and emotionally drained. As he unlocked the door, he could hear Jack laughing and Richard pretending to be whatever creature was required of him.

Hotch gave him a hug. Richard seemed to realise it had been another difficult day and didn't push for details. When they went to bed, Aaron tackled him onto the bed and buried his head in Richard's neck, muffling his words and hiding his face from view.

"Do you promise that you still love me?" he asked. He wasn't about to admit they'd been digging into his past, not when there was nothing to show for it, but he still needed the confirmation that when he got home in the evening, Richard and Jack would still be there.

"I promise Aar," Richard said, running his hands through Aaron's hair, causing it to become even messier. Aaron relaxed against him, completely unaware that Richard was smirking at him.

The fourth note came to Spencer Reid.

It was Thursday, the weird time between sunset and proper nightfall. Even though they had been working without pausing since the day before, they were no closer to finding who exactly was their targeting their unit chief.

They hadn't even finished their list of suspects, or worked out who would know everything that had been mentioned in the notes. Apart from Richard. But everyone was refraining from mentioning his name, unless they were talking about ways to protect him, even though it was clear Derek and Emily still weren't convinced.

Neither were JJ and Reid, but they were doing a better job of covering it up.

Hotch was on edge. He didn't seem to care about the first two notes, even though both of the photos linked to them had been taken inside his apartment. He only cared about the third one, and was doing everything he could to gain any sort of information that would help them with it.

Because he was refusing to phone Richard and tell him what was going on, the information they could find was very limited. His refusal had irritated Dave and even Morgan was getting fed up with playing peacekeeper for everyone. 

The only good thing that had happened was Strauss redistributing their cases and paperwork to the other teams, so they could work on Hotch's case unhindered. But Reid almost wished she hadn't, because then at least they could have worked on consults or had some kind of paperwork that allowed them to feel like they were doing something useful.

Even though his memory meant he could quote all three notes word for word without hesitation- something he was sure the other members of the team were going to be able to do if they kept reading the notes they were- he found himself staring at the first one again.

It must have been somebody with access to the building, because that was where Derek and Penelope had found theirs. But then whoever it was would have also been able to get to the cafe without JJ realising it was someone in their building. And Garcia had checked the sign-out records. There wasn't anybody.

Which meant everything was pointing to Richard having snuck in with a generic visitor's pass, but he was present in the third picture, and Hotch had provided him with alibis for the first two incidents. So somebody was targeting both of them, but they couldn't find any bad history with Richard's exes, and Haley was dead.

He hated dead ends. He liked working on cases because it was like putting a puzzle together, but nothing about their current situation made any sense, and none of the pieces they had would fit together nicely and the way they were supposed to.

"We should take a five minute break," Rossi said.

Everybody else threw their files down, relieved that it had been him that had suggested the break because they all needed one but they weren't about to call one. Hotch kept flicking through the timeline they'd created with a frown as he tried to match up where various people had been at various times.

"Aaron," Dave said, tone turning slightly harsher.

"I'll be two minutes," Aaron said.

Dave sighed. "Well I'm going to stretch my legs. Would anybody like to join me?" 

JJ and Emily immediately leapt out of their seats and started to go with him. Hotch watched them leave with a slight shake of his head, well aware that they were just going to talk about him. Morgan and Garcia also decided to take a walk, just around the building.

Which left Reid with Hotch. He didn't mind. The two of them had always worked well together because Hotch usually just let Reid do things the way he liked and thought was best, even if it wasn't always the norm, and Reid wasn't like Rossi or Morgan so his offers of food or suggestion of a break were rooted in the science, rather than the belief that he was falling apart.

"Reid, you should take a break," Hotch said, without even looking up.

"I'll take one if you take one," Reid fired back and Hotch made a mental note to never let him and Prentiss go to a crime scene together ever again. She was a bad influence on him. But he also knew that Reid usually always meant what he said. And because he really couldn't have agents passing out on him, he set the file down and sat with his head resting on his palms.

"I'm taking one so come on," Hotch said.

Reid put his pen down and pulled his book out of his bag. When he turned it to the page he'd left off at, something fell out. Him and Hotch both looked down, and Reid realised why it had seemed familiar. It was the same envelope that the letters he wrote to his mother were sent in.

Hotch picked it up and placed it in Reid's hands. "Open it. Whoever sent it meant for it to go to you. And if we assume that they're still watching us now, then you not opening it will cause something bad."

Was it wrong to play on Reid's goodness because he didn't want to open the envelope? Probably. But fear, much like anger and love, did strange things to people.

Reid swallowed, and for a moment, when Hotch looked at him, he was the same boy who had been terrified of doing an interrogation alone. But he'd stopped being that boy years ago, and he had grown into the man that was still good and kind but who had also realised that he deserved so much more than he had been given.

"Do you want me to wait for everyone else to come back?" he asked.

Hotch shook his head. "In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't."

Reid opened the envelope using the opener he kept in his desk drawer. The action made Hotch smile. Even with something like this, he was careful. Reid didn't need any form of prompting. He just read the note out, without any sort of tone change or emotion. For that, Hotch was grateful. Reid knew what he needed: distance, even if it was only in his head.

"Do they even know that sometimes you stand in the mirror staring at the scars left by your demons because you need to understand why they let you live and all the other good people, like Eliza and Haley die?"

Reid passed the note to Hotch, who stared at it like it held the key to everything he had ever wanted. It had been so long since he'd heard or even read the name Eliza. The fact that somebody out there knew about that made him sick to his stomach. But it also gave him an idea.

"Who is Eliza?" Reid asked.

"My mother. She died my first year of law school. It's why I graduated later. I know you've all always wondered about that," he explained.

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago. What is the photo?"

Reid pulled it out of the envelope, holding his breath, even though he could already form an image of what it was going to be. Whoever their unsub was, they weren't creative. His suspicions were mostly right. Because the photo did indeed show Hotch stood in front of a mirror with only a towel wrapped around his hips.

But it was not the nine precise scars on his torso that Reid found himself staring at. It was the mess on his back. Most of them had faded to silver lines that could only be seen as a result of the closeness and quality of the image, but some of them hadn't. They were still as red and angry as the marks left by Foyet.

Reid felt his vision begin to blur as tears filled his eyes. He turned to Hotch, who was looking at the photo with a neutrality that could only be gained through years and years of repression and compartmentalisation. And once again, Reid was struck by just how unjust the world was.

"My father abused my mother," Hotch said, voice completely flat. "And then me. But he never touched Sean. Not once. To this day, I have no idea why. My only guess would be that Sean looked like our mother. I looked like him."

"Hotch, I am so sorry."

"It was a long time ago."

"It still wasn't right," Reid argued. Hotch didn't reply, and he swallowed. There was something that he needed to say because it was something Hotch needed to hear. "Hotch. I know you hate this. And I know you think it means everything is going to change. But it isn't. Because this-" he gestured to the photos- "only makes you a better person. It means that you have something that our unsubs don't: humanity."

The only acknowledgement he got that Hotch had heard him was the clench of his jaw, so he carried on. He would only stop when Hotch told him to. "This team is a family. And if it has taught me one thing that no textbook would ever be able to, it is that the love of a family does not carry a condition of any kind. You don't need to be perfect. Not for us. Certainly not for me."

Hotch nodded slightly. "I know."

"Good. Because you survived. Both of them. You can survive this too."

Their eyes met, and there was a mutual understanding there. One that could only be shared between two people that had, at some point in their lives, just wanted the pain to end because there was no shining light at the end of the tunnel in view. 

"You survived too Spencer. You did so much more than survive. You became the person you are today and I need you to know just how proud I am."

Reid smiled. "I know you are. The team will be back at any moment. I think you should hold onto the photo. It's the only one we've received where you aren't fully clothed. Besides, we aren't going to get any information from this that we haven't already gotten."

Hotch nodded and put it with the rest of his sheets. It would have to go in the case file as evidence, but until then, the only people to see it would be him and Reid.

When the team got back, they didn't ask questions about what was happening with the photo, but they did seem much less tense. Hotch started to draw up a list of people from his childhood town, claiming that they would have been the only people aware of what was really happening behind closed doors.

Whilst it did give them suspects, most of them weren't viable and by the team Hotch was leaving to drop Jack at a dentist's appointment, they were in the same place they'd started the day at.

"We should just phone Richard and ask him," Emily said.

"We can't do that. He would never forgive us if we did that," Penelope argued.

Dave was fixated on the spot where Aaron had previously been sat. "We're all too invested to make that call. But we gained some additional information today. We use that. And whoever gets the next note, they have to decide. Okay?"

Which meant it would either be Emily or him. A fact not lost on anyone.

Whilst Aaron dressed in the bathroom with a fogged up mirror and fell asleep with his head on Richard's chest, the gentle tone of his narration soothing him and making him feel safe, Emily and Dave laid awake, praying that the other would get the next note.

The fifth note came to David Rossi.

It was Friday, late morning, and he'd been in a meeting with Erin and Aaron, discussing exactly what was going on with his stalker. Aaron had spent the entire meeting shifting around in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the focus all being on him.

They hadn't been able to get in contact with any of the names that Aaron had added to the list after Spencer's note, which had infuriated everyone and led to the suspicion sounding Richard only increasing. Even Strauss thought there was something going on with him, but she hadn't been as successful at hiding it as she thought she had.

Which was why Dave was letting Aaron walk in front of him, instead of forcing him to slow down so they could talk. Not only did it allow Aaron to burn some of his anger off, it gave Dave a chance to watch him, uninterrupted. He was rubbing his fingers together, the gesture more aggressive than usual. 

Dave eventually caught up to him, but Aaron wouldn't even look at him. His jaw was clenched, and Dave knew better than to argue the technicality of him not actually being the one to suggest that Richard was guilty to Strauss. Instead, he allowed them to walk in silence, which caused a small amount of tension to leave Aaron's shoulders.

They entered their respective offices, and Dave's heart stopped. There, taped to his desk, was an envelope. The exact same design that the invitations to his third wedding had gone out in. His third wedding, which was the only one Aaron had been around to attend. And he knew that the other man still had the envelope.

He left the door open, and grabbed the envelope off the screen, not caring when the tape remained stuck to it. His hands did not tremble as he opened it because he was filled with rage at whoever had decided to try and ruin one of his favourite memories. He scanned the note. He looked at the photo.

And then he walked into Aaron's office. "Phone your boyfriend right now and tell him that you need him to come down here. I don't care what your reason is. Just get him here. Now."

Aaron looked up from the various files covering his desk. "What?"

"The team made an agreement yesterday. Whoever got the next note would make the call nobody else wanted to. I am putting my foot down. Phone him."

When Hotch hesitated, Rossi sighed.

"Agent Hotchner, you are not the lead on this case because of your own personal involvement. I am the lead, and I am giving you a command which you have to follow, or I will do it myself and I don't think either of you would like that. But you are not seeing the note before you do this."

Hotch's face twisted with fear, but then he unlocked his personal phone and dialled Richard's cell. The ringing seemed to go on for an unusually long time, and some of Dave's anger faded, only to be replaced with a white-hot shame.

"Aar? Is everything okay?" Richard asked.

Hotch relaxed at the sound of his voice. "No. I need-"

"Breathe baby. Just breathe. You can ask for this." Richard's tone was soothing. It gave Aaron the strength to voice his next statement.

"I need you to come down here now. It's urgent. I can't tell you what it's about, but I really need you here," he said, words all slowly becoming one as tears pricked his eyes when he realised just what was going to happen.

"Okay. That's okay. I'll be there in fifteen minutes okay? Just keep breathing. Go and find Dave. Can you promise me that when you hang up, you'll find Dave and let him help you?"

Aaron hesitated. "Yeah Richard. I can do that."

"Good boy. I'll see you soon. I love you."

Aaron's voice was choked when he replied with: "I love you too." He ended the call, slammed his phone on the table and yanked at his hair. Whilst Dave wanted to pry his hands away and give him one of the stress balls that were kept in the ball, he didn't. Instead, he sat opposite Aaron.

"Do they even know how sometimes you fall to your knees as though you're going to pray because your father taught you that you were a sinner that needed to beg for forgiveness?" he read out.

Aaron cringed. "Dave."

"Don't. Whatever you are about to say, don't. Because I haven't finished. That is what the note said. That's why you're always so uncomfortable in the churches, isn't it? Why you were able to tell Jason about your sexuality and not me?"

Aaron cringed at the word, but did not otherwise react. So Dave kept pushing. "It's why you shut down and became cold when I first asked you whether or not you believed in a God when you first joined the unit. Why your knowledge of the Bible is so intimate yet detached?"

"Fine! Yes! It is! Is that what you wanted to hear? Is it?" Hotch shouted, finally, finally losing his temper.

Dave didn't even blink. "No. Because I learnt all of that from this note and this photo." He threw the photo down, and Aaron stared everywhere but at his desk and at Dave's face. 

He was on his knees in the photo, facing the bed. His hands were clasped in front of him, the hickeys on his chest fresh and unconcealed amongst the marks Foyet had left with his knife.

"But Richard would have already known all of that. And he's not in this photo either. Aaron Hotchner. Can you look me in the eye and tell me that if Richard had taken this photo from the doorway, with the flash off, that you would have realised?"

Aaron hesitated, and that was answer enough. But just as Dave was about to leave, Aaron spoke. 

"I can't say that. But what I will tell you is that he is kind and good and has no motive here because he is not the unsub. And I will ask you a question too. He's going to be here in five minutes. What exactly are you going to do?"

"We are going to settle this," was Dave's response. Aaron swallowed. He knew what his role in all of this was going to be. He knew there was a chance Richard would never forgive him. But every moment they spent chasing after him was a moment they spent going in the wrong direction, which only increased Richard's chance of getting hurt. So he would play his role and beg for forgiveness later. 

When Richard burst into the bullpen, eyes full of fear and panting because he had run the whole way up- he'd even taken the stairs because he knew it would be faster than waiting for the elevator- Aaron was the only one standing. 

He had his arms wrapped around himself in a pathetic attempt to bring comfort and he was biting his lip. Everyone else was sat around, trying to make the situation seem as natural as possible. But when Richard immediately ran over to Hotch, nobody really knew why. He hadn't even noticed, all his focus on Aaron.

"Baby, what happened?" Richard asked, cupping Aaron's face.

Despite everything, Aaron leant into the touch.

"I'm so sorry," Aaron whispered, his eyes closed. The tears he'd been holding back for so long had started to fall, and Richard wiped them away gently. JJ bit her lip, clearly terrified that they had made a terrible mistake, but Dave wasn't going to budge.

"Aaron?" Richard pressed.

Dave took Richard's hands and Aaron stepped back, staring at the ground.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated.

"Aar, what is he doing?" Richard asked, struggling against Dave's hold.

"We're just going to ask you a few questions, that's all," Dave said, voice far too sweet as he led Richard down to the interrogation rooms. Richard stared at him, mildly terrified and absolutely defiant, but then turned to see Aaron, still shaking and not letting anyone comfort him. He swallowed, wondering what on earth his boyfriend had got involved with this time.

After a bit of deliberation- both because they weren't entirely sure and because they wanted to make Richard squirm- they agreed that Dave would lead the interrogation, but they would switch to Derek if necessary. Aaron had remained silent throughout the discussion, only sitting down because JJ had forced him into a seat.

He wasn't speaking to any of them, but he did glare when Emily asked if he would want to sit in his office whilst they carried out the interrogation, which led to him following them down. He wouldn't go near the window.

Richard was dressed casually, as he always was, but aside from that, he was not the man that they were used to seeing. His eyes were darting all over the room and he was tapping his foot against the chair leg. Under the table, he was rubbing his thumb over the rest of his fingers. Dave, who'd been compartmentalising the entire time, suddenly felt nauseous.

He went in. Best to just get things over and done with.

"What's going on?" Richard asked.

Dave kept the file out of his reach. "That's what we were hoping you could help us with."

Richard laughed, slightly hysterical. "Of course I want to help, but I can't help if I don't have any sort of information! Is Aaron in trouble? Did something happen to him? He's not, he's been completely normal these past few days, if I had noticed something I would have asked."

"We're not entirely sure whether or not Aaron is in trouble, but something did happen. Well actually, it was a few somethings. See for yourself." He slid the file across the desk, and Richard stared at it like it was a trick. Dave nodded and he hesitantly opened it.

"Oh my god... " Richard whispered, all colour leaving his face as he pressed a hand to his mouth and swallowed down bile.

"Five notes. Five photos. Five envelopes that have all been delivered to various members of my team over the past five days. Go on, read them. You probably already know what the information on them is, unlike us."

Richard mouthed the words to himself. Outside, Aaron was pacing, wringing his hands and ignoring everybody's attempts to soothe him, or take him back up. When Richard finished reading the notes, Dave showed him the photos.

"They've been in his apartment? Jack lives in that apartment. How do you know that it's safe anymore? Why hasn't he said anything? Why is he still staying there? He should be staying with me, right?" Richard asked.

Dave hated to admit it, but his concern was genuine. He didn't even seem to realise that he was their prime suspect, or that if it wasn't him, he would be in danger because all he seemed to care about was Aaron.

"With no apparent break-in, yes they've been in his apartment. Aaron didn't want protection, and why he didn't tell you is beyond me. He seems to trust you enough with other things." Dave changed the atmosphere, which Richard immediately picked up on.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You knew all the information that could be found in those notes. You could gain access to the apartment very easily. You know where Aaron's team are based, and the smaller details like where my office is and that Spencer likes to read. It all seems oddly convenient."

"You think I did this?" Richard said, tone coloured with disbelief.

Dave shrugged. "Maybe. We've been trying to find other suspects. They don't really exist."

"I wouldn't- I love Aaron. With everything I am. What would I have to gain from using things he told me about his life that he's never trusted anyone else to say and exposing them to the team? Why would I hurt him that much, when all it would take is a few clicks from Penny and my life would be ruined?"

"Revenge. Anger. Maybe you feel inadequate because Jack is the spitting image of Haley and you will never replace her," he said, remaining completely calm, even though his heart was hammering.

Aaron's jaw dropped and he went to the door, but Morgan stopped him with a hand to the heart and a glare that rivalled his own.

"I'm not trying to replace Haley. I would never even dream of that. Aaron still loves Haley. I know that. It doesn't mean he can't love me too. Haley was brutally murdered by a serial killer. She was the mother of his son and the love of his childhood. She helped save him. If he didn't love her, I would be more concerned."

"So you don't resent either of them?"

"Haley helped make Aaron into the man he is today. How could I resent her? And Aaron is so good. He does his best. He tries. Not a single part of me resents him for anything he's done. To suggest otherwise is an insult to both of us." His tone was final.

"If I asked you for a suspect-"

"I wouldn't be able to think of one right now because I am way too mad at you and everyone else listening to think straight. But if you want my help, I will give it. You can dig through my life to try and find who would dare do this because it is not me."

Richard did not break eye contact, and Dave realised that he could and would be the difference between their unsub destroying Aaron and saving both of them.

"Fine. Come on up, read through the file and help us. But I swear on all that you and I hold sacred, if you dare lie or hurt him to protect yourself, I will kill you and nobody will ever find your body or trace it back to me," Dave said.

Richard seemed even more distressed after that, so Dave put him out of his misery.

"I'm joking. It's just that we have all been waiting to give the shovel talk for so long."

When Richard stood, it was on shaky legs. Dave held the door open for him, and the moment he stepped through, Aaron leapt into his arms, knocking him back slightly. Almost immediately, Richard's left hand went to cradle the back of Aaron's head, which was buried in his shoulder as his body shook with the force of his sobs.

"I'm so sorry," Aaron whispered. 

Everyone else had left. Privacy was the least they could give them.

"Baby it's okay. It's all okay."

Aaron didn't seem to be listening. "I- Please don't leave me. Please don't go away. I am so, so sorry."

Richard pulled away and forced eye contact. Aaron swallowed.

"Baby. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to come up with you, I am going to help you find this person and I am going to forgive you. Do you hear me? I'm staying, and all is forgiven. I just wish you had told me. I would never have let you go to your apartment if I'd known."

"I'm sorry," Aaron said again.

"It's okay. Just, I'm driving us back to mine tonight, okay?"

Aaron sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his chest. Richard was so good. Too good and too forgiving for someone like him, but he was learning to accept the love he was given. So instead of fighting, he just nodded, letting Richard take the lead once more.

The sixth note came to Emily Prentiss.

It was Saturday.

The only reason they were in the office was because the case was personal. She felt terrible. Hotch had just started to finally achieve a real work-life balance and now it was being torn from him by some maniac.

Richard was helping them, but whilst him and Jack were sat in the bullpen with everyone else, Hotch was sat in his office because there had been some unavoidable paperwork that needed to be done and he needed to concentrate. Strauss had the decency to look apologetic when she dropped it off for him.

Emily personally thought the higher-ups could have been a little more subtle in the way they went about delivering their message. Paperwork that apparently only he could complete was the most obvious way to say he was Unit Chief and therefore had to participate in bureau politics because to them, nothing, not even the life and safety of a federal agent that had already given everything to their job came above their wishes.

She'd offered to take some of the things under it to give him a hand and because she knew that, whilst none of it was pressing, it would all build up and end with him getting completely overwhelmed. She'd spent enough time with her mother to know how to fill it all out, and she was also exceptionally good at forging his handwriting.

It wasn't like they were getting any closer to finding their unsub. Everyone was doing what they could, but until they either got another message or came up with more suspects, they were stuck. Everyone still had their suspicions regarding Richard, but nobody was going to say anything. Not after everything that had happened.

Aaron had interpreted their departure the previous day as the apology it was, and they had seen the coffee and slight smile he gave them all when he got in as the forgiveness he was trying to give. Richard cooperating and answering all their questions with a smile and grace made it easier.

Emily picked up the last file and frowned. She must have picked it up by accident because it wasn't the same sort of files as the previous five had been. Those had all been budget and funding related. The one she found herself holding that moment was the manila folders that contained details of their cases. For a moment, she considered just giving it to him, but when she looked through the blinds, he was rubbing his forehead, a migraine clearly forming.

"Any new leads?" she asked.

Everybody shook their heads. Richard leant back in his chair, smiling when Jack held him his latest drawing. It didn't quite reach his eyes and Emily wondered how he had managed to remain so calm and collected when both his and Aaron's lives were potentially at risk.

She was happy that Hotch had found love and accepted his own sexuality, but she just wished it hadn't been with someone with a name like Richard. It just screamed dodgy. It was not a valid reason to suspect him of anything, but ever since they'd gotten together, she had been on edge.There wasn't anything she could say though. And she was getting sidetracked.

She would do the consult, and it would be fine, and when she told Aaron she'd done it, he would smile at her like he had always done before weird envelopes revealed his secrets and created a divide nobody was going to discuss because if they got into it, they wouldn't be able to stop thinking about just how little he really trusted them.

With a deep sigh- she was going to need to apply some actual energy if it was a consult- she opened the folder. What she was greeted with was not crime scene photos or information on the victims of heinous crimes. It was not graphic images of dead bodies or a preliminary profile that just needed some form of refinement.

It was so much worse.

It was an envelope. And the logical, rational part of her brain had been expecting one ever since the day had started. But emotions were not logical or rational and there was a pit in her stomach as she realised that this time, she would not be able to hide or let someone else carry the responsibility of handling the contents. 

She would have to be the one to open the envelope, read the letter, see the photo. She would have to tell Aaron there had been another one. She would have to watch as the ghosts and demons of his past were dredged up and flaunted for everyone to see, and then as his eyes hardened once more and he pretended that person was someone else.

The worst part was, there wouldn't be anything she could do for him.

"Well, my one just got delivered," she announced.

Everyone looked over at her. Richard tapped Jack on the shoulder, and held up his hand in a wait gesture. Jack nodded, then turned back to his book.

"I'm just going to ask Anderson to watch him for a few minutes. Because I need to be here, but Jack doesn't need to see what happens once you tell Aaron. Is that okay?" he asked.

Emily nodded. It was selfish, but she was glad that she had been granted a few extra minutes to gain control over herself. When Richard did return, there was a slight hesitance to his actions, as though he also felt like he could live without knowing what was in the envelope, even though he probably already knew.

The envelope was one that her mother had used for sending gala details out during the period of time where Aaron worked for her. She wasn't sure she wanted to know how their unsub knew that about them.

Her voice was monotonous as she read the note because unlike the others, she did not read it in her head before reading it aloud. When she finished, she wished she had.

"Do they even know how your father responded when he caught you at the grand age of fourteen with your hand being held by the pastor's son and a wide grin on your face because it was in that moment that you first understood what having a crush meant?" she read out.

Richard's eyes widened. "This bastard knows what happened then? It must be- it has to be somebody he grew up with. It just has to be, and when I get my fucking hands on them-"

"You're going to leave it to us because we have powers of arrest and you are a civilian that does not," Rossi finished.

Emily felt a surge of anger within her, both at Aaron's father for ever laying a hand on his child and for not accepting him, and at Aaron. Because Aaron had lied to her. He had looked her in the eye and lied. She hadn't even realised.

"What's the photo?" Derek asked.

Feeling slightly sick, she peered in the envelope and saw that no, she had not been lucky enough to not receive one. She took it out and stared at it, needing that moment to process and understand exactly what had happened all those years ago. She needed to be the first one to see it because the letter had come to her and she needed to know exactly what was going to hurt her so much.

It did more than just hurt her. It broke her into a million pieces.

The Aaron that she chose to remember was the one that smiled at everyone, that laughed at Derek and Penelope's flirting and who always, always danced with her when she asked. The one that had barely reacted when she came out and then, when he realised she was still stood there, looked up and said that he was not the person to ask for advice when it came to pretty girls. 

The Aaron that had been near tears when she told him that she would always love him, no matter what because she knew what it was that he needed to tell her but she wasn't going to take that from him, she just needed him to know.

The Aaron that haunted her nightmares was the one that had woken up in the hospital after Foyet, barely able to speak because he was so weak. The one that had walked into a hostage situation and stopped caring about his own life because he didn't think it meant anything.

The Aaron that made her wonder what the point in any of what they did was, that made her angry and terrified of herself, that made her want to kill everyone that had dared to harm a child, was the one in the photo.

It had come from a medical file. Knowing that only made it worse. He was just a boy. Young. Too young to have such haunted eyes. There were dark circles under them. His arm was in a cast, cradled close to his body. His face was a mess of bruises and there was a not quite healed gash on his forehead.

He had lied. And the worst part was, she could almost understand why. It didn't get rid of her anger, but she could almost understand it.

"It wasn't my place to say anything," Richard whispered.

"If you had, I would have killed you," Emily said. "Reid have you read the note?"

Reid nodded, passing it back to her. He didn't bother to offer to tell Hotch. Nobody did. It would be an insult to both of them to even suggest that Emily shouldn't go. Hotch trusted her in a way he didn't trust anyone else and she knew him in a way everyone else couldn't.

The team would see the photo after Hotch. Emily stood, clasping both close to her chest just in case anybody else saw them and briskly walked up to his office because anything more than that would make other people suspicious.

"You lied to me," she said as she entered. She was still angry, but it didn't bleed into her tone like she had wanted. Instead, she just sounded betrayed and hurt.

He looked at her. Not out the window like he wanted to because that would be unfair. It would make him understand the situation like he wanted to, but he needed to focus on her and for that, she was grateful.

"What?"

"You lied to me. You told me your dad didn't know you were bi. That he died before you were ready to tell anyone, and you had always regretted it. And I told you it was okay because you weren't ready and it wasn't safe," she said.

He swallowed, but carried on looking at her. "I know."

She put the note on his table and then slammed the photo down. He glanced at it, and she saw his fists clench in the fabric of his trousers. When he met her eyes again, still not looking out the window, there was a defiance in them. Like he didn't care.

"Aaron, I'm not angry. I just want to know. You could have told me the truth. I wouldn't have thought any lesser of you. You know I wouldn't have. You weren't sick or disgusting and I am sorry for everything that happened." 

She didn't want him to apologise because it was his trauma. She had no right to it. She just wanted to know why he had lied instead of just saying he didn't feel comfortable talking about it. She wouldn't have pushed him.

"I couldn't have told you," he said, finally breaking eye contact and looking out the window. The team were pouring over the note. Richard was talking to Jack and Emily noticed him relax slightly.

"Aaron," she said, trying to not let it sting. "Why not?"

He turned back to face her. "I couldn't."

It wasn't about her, but she needed him to know. "You don't have to tell me why, and I am not trying to say I was entitled to that information. I just want you to know that if it was something I said or did, then I am so sorry and-"

"You wouldn't have understood, okay? That's why I didn't tell you. Because you wouldn't have got it and I didn't want your fucking sympathy."

She stared. "I wouldn't have understood?"

"No, you wouldn't have because you never gave a damn about what your mother thought of you and for all her flaws, she did her best and she accepted you. When the church rejected you, you had Matthew. When Gideon left, the team decided to love you unconditionally and you never once had to consider that everything would change when you came out."

He knew he was being unfair and that coming out couldn't have been easy for her, but he was too emotional to think straight. Later he would apologise and do whatever it took for her to look at him like he meant something, and she would just ask him to forgive himself.

But that would be later.

"Aaron, I'm sorry."

"Everyone always is. Apart from the one person that needed to be. Do you know what he did, after that photo was taken? He told them I was lying about it being him and everyone was too afraid to suggest otherwise. And then he shipped me off to boarding school like I meant nothing. I could only come back when he was lying, and even then, the pastor wouldn't let me in the church because he was scared I would taint his precious church, almost like the man being buried wasn't an abuser."

There were no words, comfort or otherwise that she could provide him with. "Aaron, I'm-"

"Sorry? All anyone seems to be is sorry. And I am sick of it. I am so, so sick of it and I just want everybody to do their fucking jobs and find this bastard so everything can go back to normal and I can breathe again," he snapped.

She didn't move. She just raised an eyebrow, silently asking if there was anything else he wanted to get off his chest.

He bolted from his office, not acknowledging a single member of the team, or Richard, or even Jack. Emily sighed, took the note and photo and brought it back to the bullpen. They didn't have a board. Hotch wasn't dead or missing and they weren't about to let anyone else see.

Richard sighed, then pulled out his phone. "He's gone to my apartment. Look, I know the new note means a lot and that there's now more that we can use but is it okay if I-"

"Go. He needs you," JJ said, not even looking up. Emily begrudgingly nodded.

Richard smiled at them all gratefully. "Thank you." He turned to Jack. "Hey bud, how do you feel about spending the evening with your Auntie Jessie? Hmm? She told me yesterday that she's just been waiting to see you!"

Richard left. Emily and Dave watched him go, their thoughts the same. As much as they detested Richard, they would give anything for him to not be the unsub.

When Richard let himself into his apartment, all the lights were off. He sighed, and thought about how one day in the near future, his key would be turning in the lock of the door to a home. Because as soon as this whole thing was over, him and Aaron were signing the deed of a house. It was going to be beautiful.

"Baby? I'm home," he called out.

There was no response. He checked the living room, then the kitchen, then the bathroom and finally the bedroom. Aaron was under the duvet, but even from the doorway Richard could tell he wasn't sleeping.

He kicked his own shoes off and got in beside Aaron. "You don't need to speak to me. But I need you to know that you've not done anything wrong and they all still love you. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. We're going to have a nice day at the beach and then I'm taking you out for dinner and we will have an extremely romantic night that will hopefully lead to you limping slightly come Monday morning," he said.

Aaron rolled over, eyes slightly red but a small smile still on his face. "You promise?"

"I promise," he replied in a sing-song voice before pulling Aaron closer.

"I'm scared," Aaron confessed, after a long silence.

"I know baby. But I'm right here. And it's going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay."

Aaron wanted to believe him. He closed his eyes and listened to Richard singing, trying not to think about the feather-light kisses that were being pressed to the side of his neck and trying to forget the note that had known exactly what they did to him. Because Richard had been the one to discover that information. As far as Aaron was aware, nobody else knew.

The seventh note came to Aaron Hotchner.

It was Sunday morning. When he woke up, Richard was still there. He smiled at his partner, wishing they could spend every day in bed. Richard was stunning when he slept. They'd both forgotten to close the blinds, and the early morning sunshine made it his hair glow.

Aaron usually had to run to work and get Jack to school, so he never really got to appreciate how warm Richard was. But there was no imminent paperwork, the team had agreed to only contact him if there was a real emergency and Jack was staying with Jessica.

He didn't need to be anywhere apart from right there. It was a nice feeling. So instead of worrying about the time, he shifted closer to Richard and let himself drift off again.

"Baby, I love you. I really do. And I'm so glad you're sleeping, but I need to piss," Richard complained an indefinite amount of time later.

Aaron's eyes opened when he felt himself get pushed to the other side of the bed. "Wha-"

"Thank you. And hello darling. Happy Valentine's Day."

He still wasn't used to Richard being stronger than him, and he blushed. "Hi. Happy Valentine's Day."

"Are you okay?"

"Mhm."

Richard looked at his face, then smirked as he realised why Aaron was blushing. When Aaron saw the glint in his eyes, he buried his head in the pillow. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything!" Richard laughed. "But seriously. Are you okay?"

"Yes. Really, I am. I don't want to think about any of that today. Just go pee and brush your teeth, I'll get out of bed when you're done."

"Demanding. Okay, I'm going. See you in a few minutes."

When Richard closed the door, Aaron turned his phone on. He would turn it off when they were actually spending time together, but he just needed to make sure Jack had been okay and that there was nothing urgent from the team.

Jessica had sent the standard message, saying Jack was fine and she'd drop him off with them in the evening. The team had texted the non-work chat talking about their plans. He smiled to himself, glad they were following his orders for once and was about to set his phone back on the nightstand when he saw he had a voicemail.

From an unknown number.

He frowned, guard immediately up. An unknown number to his work number would make sense because it would probably just be a work thing, but his personal phone was different. It was more intimate.

Heart pounding so loud it was the only thing he could hear, he dialled his voicemail, immediately pressing one when the options began.

The world had never been kind to him. The message was robotic, no way of tracing it back to anyone.

"If you want to keep them safe, you won't stop just for a few hours with your boyfriend. Unless of course, you think he's more important than your unarmed sister-in-law and son. Her father would never forgive you if you caused the death of both his babies, would he? Has he even forgiven you for the first?"

The message ended, and the neutral tone of the operator, asking him if he wanted to listen to it again fell on deaf ears. 

Without a moment of thought, he tumbled out of the bed, hurriedly dressing in the first things he could find in the wardrobe, not even bothering to check he'd buttoned his shirt correctly. He was unlocking the safe and holstering his guns when Richard entered the room, having heard the commotion on his way to the kitchen.

"What happened?" he asked.

Hotch just gestured to his phone as an answer, rushing out of the room to go and brush his own teeth so he would be able to eat something without feeling weird. When he came back, Richard was sat on the bed, fiddling with his phone. He turned at Aaron's footsteps and smiled slightly.

"There's no way you're letting me come with you, is there?" he asked.

Aaron shook his head. "It's far too risky. We've established they're one person, so if they were focusing on Jess and Jack then they can't be here too. I'm going into the office to see what's going on, but I'll have people stationed for you and them whilst I'm driving."

"Okay. Come here."

Aaron obeyed, inhaling the familiar scent of Richard's lemon and orange shower gel. "I love you," he whispered, proud of himself for not stumbling over the words.

"Love you too. Now go out there, get this son of a bitch and promise to come home to me safely."

It was an impossible promise, but he made it anyways. He always did. "I promise."

Hotch didn't tell the team about the voicemail. Garcia wouldn't have been able to gain anything from it, so there was no point in dragging them all out and ruining whatever their plans were just because somebody was obsessed with him. Besides, they had all received notes. There was nothing for them to do.

And part of him just needed to do it alone, without them watching him, waiting for him to snap the same way he had with Foyet.

But when he parked, he noticed the car park seemed oddly full for both a Sunday and a celebration. Whilst the BAU didn't have the best track record when it came to relationships because most ended with divorce or death, that wasn't the case with everyone.

The elevator went straight to the sixth floor. His heart started hammering again as the doors opened and he stepped off. His fears had been confirmed when he saw the bullpen: the team were there. It hurt more than he thought it would, because there was only one one way they would know. 

Richard had told them, even though he knew Aaron would've said something if he wanted them to be aware.

"You don't have to be here," he said as soon as he was within earshot.

They all looked up, and he saw all six of the previous photos and notes scattered over the table. Their list of suspects, which had been getting shorter and shorter with every new lead they found, was in the centre.

"But we want to. Richard told us about the voicemail. Can we hear it?" Penelope asked.

He nodded, unlocking his phone and setting it down as it played.

"Is there a chance the unsub just happens to know about Jessica and Jack's existence?" JJ suggested.

"No. Because Jack has been spending most nights with me lately. Well, me or Richard. Him staying overnight with Jessica is not a weekly occurrence anymore. For the unsub to know, they must have been watching. They must have."

"Okay, I'm going to try and get any information from this," Penelope said, opening her laptop as her fingers flew across the keyboard.

Aaron nodded. The original notes and photos were in his desk drawer, which was locked, so after they spent a few minutes just talking and organising their thoughts, he went up to get them. It was then that he saw the note, everyone having missed it initially because they'd gone straight to the bullpen and not even looked up.

The envelope was the same type used for death certificates in the state of Virginia. He only knew that because his first thought when Haley's had been delivered was that the envelopes that contained something so destroying had no right being so beautiful.

"Hotch?" Emily called out. She didn't know where they stood anymore, but she couldn't help herself. 

"They've sent me mine," he said, his voice surprisingly steady.

"What?" Derek said.

He tore the envelope off the door and held it up. As much as he did not want to be vulnerable in front of everyone, he could not open it alone, so he descended the stairs on shaky legs and sat back down, in between Derek and JJ and took a deep breath.

"It's okay sir. We have time. Just do it when you're ready," Penelope encouraged.

"We might have time, but Jess and Jack may not," he said, and opened it neatly, using the letter opener Spencer held up for him.

Hotch took the note and photo out at the same time, but he, like the others, wanted to brace himself for the contents of the photo by reading the note first. Their unsub wasn't particularly creative so it would be easy enough to guess what it would be.

He frowned, then pressed his hand to his forehead, trying to not cry in frustration. He had no idea what the note was meant to mean.

"Aaron?" Dave asked.

"Do you even know how easy it would be for you to find me if you would just stop being such a baby about everything?" he read out. "I don't understand. Why- we don't even know who it is. How would we know where to find them?"

"Look at the photo," JJ coaxed.

He wanted to kick himself. Here he was, falling apart when the answer was right in front of him.

With a tremble he hated, he took the photo out. He immediately knew what and where it was. But he couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. It had to be a trick of the light. Or a mistake. Or a sick, twisted joke. It couldn't be real. He wasn't sure he could survive if it was.

"What is it?" Emily asked.

He put the photo down so everyone could see it. "That's the house Richard and I are moving into. Once all this is over, we're signing the deed. It's empty at the moment because the couple had already moved in with their children." His voice was completely monotone. Any emotion would lead to him sobbing.

Only one other person knew that the purchase was being made. But somewhere inside him was a tiny flicker of hope, telling him it was all a horrible consequence and it was actually someone else.

"Derek, Emily, Aaron, we're in one car. JJ, drive Spencer and Penelope. Em, whilst we're going, you phone Jessica. Make sure she can see the officers assigned to her and Jack. Aaron, phone Richard. Make sure he doesn't leave his apartment. Let's go," Dave commanded.

Everyone piled into the cars. Dave did not his profile to be correct. He did not want to be right, but it was starting to seem like the only option. The fact that it would be the three people that had seen Aaron at his most vulnerable in the car together was not something he'd done by accident. He knew Aaron. He loved fiercely, with everything he was, until the very last moment.

Before the day was over, he would need someone to patch him back together. It was going to be one of them.

"Okay, that's great. Just hang tight, everything will be okay," Emily said into her phone. She ended the call. "Jess can see them. Her and Jack are just eating breakfast. He's calm."

"That's good. Aaron, call Richard."

"I already did," Aaron said, emotion finally bleeding into his voice. Dave almost ran a red light, the admission shook him so badly.

"You what?" Derek shouted.

"I already tried once. He didn't pick up. If he doesn't call me back in the next minute, I'm trying again. He was probably just in the bathroom." The excuse sounded pathetic, even to him. But he was desperately clinging to some semblance of hope, and he would carry on until it could no longer be denied.

"Aaron," Emily started.

"Don't. Just don't. I'm trying the landline, and then his mobile. Okay?"

The ringing became uncomfortable after a few moments, and Dave wasn't sure Aaron could be trusted with a gun with the way his hands were shaking. The house was approaching, and there had still been no response from Richard.

"You have to go in first. We'll follow behind you. And no matter what happens in there, no matter who is in there, we love you. Do you understand?" Dave said, tilting Aaron's chin up so they had to make eye contact.

Aaron nodded minutely, then shrugged him off, jumping out the car. JJ, Reid and Garcia arrived only moments later. They waited as Hotch opened the door, cautiously entering with his gun pointing downwards and then they all ran in, listening for Hotch's footsteps so they knew where to go.

"FBI! Put your hands up! Now" he shouted, entering the living room.

Richard turned around, an easy smirk on his face. "Well hello Aaron. It took you long enough."

The gun fell from Aaron's hands. "No," he breathed.

"Yes," Richard said. "I mean, come on, was it ever going to be anyone else? Who else could have known all of those details about you? I mean, observing you try to protect my honour was adorable but really quite pathetic."

The team were waiting out in the hallway for some sort of signal to go in, but they could all recognise the voice. Not a single person was happy that their gut instincts had been right, or that they had actually found their unsub.

"I don't get it," Aaron whispered. He hadn't picked his gun up.

"If this is about that third photo, I had a friend take it for me. Aaron, this plan has been in motion for longer than you could even wrap your little head around. And tell your team to just come in. It's rude to eavesdrop."

Accepting their covers as blown, the team all walked in, one after another, with their weapons pointed at Richard. Their faces were grim, filled with more than the usual anger. Because how dare he go after their friend. After everything that had happened, everything he had been trusted to know, this was the way he used it.

"There's no need to point those things at me, you can see that I am clearly unarmed," he said, adding jazz hands to empathise his point. But because there was no way of telling whether or not there was a hidden weapon- or god forbid a bomb- they couldn't relax.

"Why did you do this? To us? To me?" Aaron asked, shame and humiliation coursing through him. Everybody had warned him. He had always known the team didn't like Richard. They had told him there was nobody else that made sense. But his naivety (or was it his ego) had stopped him from listening, and now nothing would be the same.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe you're not as smart as everyone likes to think you are. Maybe you really are as pathetic as your father always claimed you were. Maybe you're worse," Richard taunted.

"Richard please," he begged. "Just tell me the truth."

Nothing was ever going to be the same. Richard would be arrested and Aaron would be left to piece his heart back together, but he would be damned if he failed to get the truth from another person in his life.

Richard's lip curled in a smirk that made everyone squirm. "You have always been such a pretty beggar. Do it one more time for me, and I will give you all the answers you wanted."

His endgame had to involve death. There was no way he would reveal all the answers Aaron wanted without someone dying. But nobody could see a single weapon on him. And there was no way of knowing exactly who it was that was going to die.

Aaron took a step back. He wanted to vomit. He couldn't do it. "Richard."

"That doesn't sound like begging."

He swallowed. "Richard please. Please, just tell me. I will do whatever it is you want, I swear, but just tell me why you did it. I need to know. I am begging you to tell me, please."

"I suppose that's adequate. You want to know? Fine. Haley."

That threw him. "Haley?"

"Yes. Haley. Haley Hotchner Brooks, your ex-wife. Remember that phone call, all those years ago? Right before she left and took your son with her because you were a failure? That was me. I phoned her. Because she was cheating on you. I know you still wonder about that. Well now you don't need to. We were supposed to end up together. We were supposed to be happy. But because of you and your failure, she's dead. You took her from me! You killed her and Foyet. They're both dead because of you. And yet you're still here! It doesn't make sense!"

"Richard." He couldn't form any other words.

"Don't! Haley- who was charming and sweet and caring- is dead because of you. It doesn't make sense that she died whilst you lived. It's not fair, and it's not right. You never had to pay for her death. Until now. I've made you pay. How does it feel? To be betrayed so badly by someone you love? This is how she must have felt when you got her put in Witness Protection."

"Richard. Haley's death was not Aaron's fault. You know that. Deep down, you know that. And you also know that there is no way out of this without cooperating. Cooperate, and we can be lenient," Emily said, the first to recover from… everything as she started negotiating.

"Do they even know?" Richard snarled and Aaron flinched. Every time a member of the team had read their note to him, they had been gentle. Hesitant. Kind. Richard was neither of those. He was cruel and horrid.

"Do they even know how choked and broken your voice gets when you say I love you because you’re damaged and incapable? Do they even know pretty you look with tears streaming down your face because you can't say what you need to, even though it is not difficult and your son can do it without hesitation?"

Hotch had always loved it when Richard called him pretty. It made him feel loved. Now, it just felt dirty. He didn't even realise Richard was reaching for something behind him. Something that was blocked by his body.

"Richard, whatever your plan is, it won't work. You won't and can't get away with this now seven federal agents are aware of it. Just put your hands in front of you again, and we'll get you a more lenient sentence," Derek said, voice calm.

"I don't want a lenient sentence, I want retribution!" he shouted, brandishing a gun. 

Not just a gun. The gun that was meant to be holstered on Hotch's left leg. He glanced down in horror. It was empty.

Richard smirked. "In all your panic this morning, you forgot it. I've seen you unlock that safe enough times to know the code. Remember what happened right before you started carrying two? Adrian Bale took the one on your hip and you were completely defenceless. Haley found out she was pregnant then."

Hotch couldn't say anything. He was too focused on not vomiting.

"Richard just put the gun down," JJ said.

"Why?"

"Because even if there are seven bullets in there, you will not be able to kill all of us in the time it would take for any of us to shoot you somewhere non-fatal and make your sentence the harshest it can be," Spencer said.

"I don't want to kill you six. I don't want to kill Aaron either. I want to destroy him. I want to destroy him the way he destroys everything good that touches him. Baby. Look at me."

Aaron flinched at the nickname but lifted his eyes enough to look at Richard. "What?" he asked, voice small.

"Do they even know your biggest fear? Do you? Because it's this. Aaron Hotchner is terrifed that one day, you guys are going to wake up and realise he’s not good enough and you’re going to leave. Just like his mother and his father. And Sean. And Elle. And Jason and Haley and everybody else in his life.”

And Aaron realised what Richard was about to do. 

"Stop!" he shouted.

But it was too late. 

Richard was on the ground, pooling from the wound and all around him. Aaron fell to his knees beside him, still, in spite of everything, helplessly in love with him and clinging to the idea that it was all just a horrible dream.

"Richard," he whispered, when he felt the slightest pulse.

"I… I win," Richard rasped.

And then his eyes closed.

And Aaron broke.

Derek pulled him away from the body and wiped the blood from his hands. But Aaron was cataconic, hardly responding, and even then, only using the bare minimum. They'd forced him back into the car as soon as the other services got there, saying they would conduct his interview a few days later.

Derek was going to leave, to give Aaron his space, when he heard his name being called, so quietly he almost didn't even realise.

"Yeah?" he said, coming back over.

"Do you think I'm too broken to be loved?" Aaron asked, staring at him with tears in his eyes.

"Of course you aren't," Derek said, hating everyone that had ever made Aaron feel like that.

"Then why can't anyone do it?"

He sounded so broken. Derek didn't know what to do. So he told the truth.

"They can though. The team loves you. I love you."

"Do you promise?"

He nodded. "Yes."

And he would just keep saying it till it was enough.

**Author's Note:**

> happy valentine's day?
> 
> follow me on tumblr: yourlocalheartbreaker


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